Fellowship
by Elf Eye
Summary: The friendship between Aragorn and Legolas is tested when Aragorn grows 'older' than Legolas.


**Folks, this is a one-shot that explores the relationship between Aragorn and Legolas in the context of the fact that Aragorn is significantly 'older' than Legolas. _Zergy_ first proposed the topic and offered suggestions, and then _Emma_ and _Melanie_ weighed in with additional encouragement and advice. So this story is dedicated to _Zergy__, Emma,_ and _Melanie_.**

**Vocabulary**

**Ada****—'Papa' or 'Daddy'**

**ion-nîn****—'my son'**

**gwadur****-nîn****—'my brother'**

**hannon**** le—'thank you'**

**Istar—singular of Istari, 'those who know', i.e., 'wizards'**

**mellon-nîn****—'my friend'**

**Narwain****—'January'**

**Sinda****—a Sindarin Elf, such as Legolas is**

**Fellowship**

_It was the night before the Council of Elrond, and both Elrond and Gandalf were agreed upon its outcome. Do not think that such a grave matter would have been left to the vagaries of collective decision-making!_

_"Now," mused Elrond, "only one matter remains to be decided. Who shall be sent with the Fellowship to represent the Elves? Glorfindel, perhaps. Of all my warriors, he is the most powerful."_

_"This shall be the Fellowship of the Ring," Gandalf reminded him, "and not the Army of the Ring. And of all the Elves in Middle-earth, there is one best suited for a Fellowship of this sort."_

_Elrond looked at him shrewdly._

_"You are thinking of Legolas?"_

_"I am," said Gandalf firmly._

_"When Thranduil hears of this, he will have your beard; aye, and also the head to which it is attached!"_

_"As to that, he will have to wait his turn!"_

_Elrond nodded._

_"It shall be so. Legolas will take his place in the Fellowship of the Ring."_

_"Long has he been a part of that Fellowship, I think," Gandalf said gravely, thinking back on another conversation, with another Elf..._

"He's not lording it over you, I hope you know," said the wizard. He had come up so quietly that Legolas had not heard him approach—a very unusual turn of events, you may be sure! Legolas glanced sideways at the Istar and then looked down.

"I don't know what you mean, Mithrandir."

"Come, come, Legolas. You excel at many of the skills useful for surviving the vicissitudes of Middle-earth, but lying is not one of them. Indeed, there are none amongst the Fair Folk who can lie convincingly. Utter an enigmatic saying, without a doubt, and tell a half truth, certainly. But an outright lie, no, I think not. So do not try to tell me that you do not know what I mean!"

"Oh, very well, then," conceded Legolas, his voice petulant. "Yes, I do think he lords it over me."

"You are being very unfair," Gandalf said calmly.

"I am not!" protested Legolas, not realizing how young these words made him sound. "These past several days Estel has acted as if I am not worthy of his attention."

"My dear boy," said Gandalf, his voice kindly, "you must understand that, as Aragorn has grown, so have his responsibilities. At the moment, they far exceed yours. Given his druthers, I am sure Aragorn would rather go riding with you than pore over dusty tomes of military lore. But does he have a choice, I ask you?"

"Grown? Grown! You speak as if you forget that I am older than he!"

"In calendar years, yes, but amongst his people he is a Man of middle years, while you are but a boy amongst your kin. Again I say unto you: his responsibilities far exceed yours. Consider his position, I beg of you. He comes of a royal lineage."

"Do you forget," exclaimed Legolas indignantly, "that I am Prince Legolas? I am the son of King Thranduil of Northern Mirkwood, and he is the son of Oropher, who fought amongst the Elves at the Battle of the Last Alliance. My lineage is not to be mocked!"

"Nay, your lineage is as noble as Aragorn's. But your positions do differ. Your father still rules and is likely to do so for many a year; thus you are not yet looked to as the leader of your folk. Not so Aragorn. He is both the King of Arnor and the King of Gondor, even if he is not yet crowned as the one nor acknowledged as the other. He has not the luxury of deferring his responsibilities. It is you who enjoy such a luxury, as well as many other perquisites that arise from being the much-loved son of a powerful king."

"You speak," said Legolas resentfully, "as if I have nothing to do but spend my days playing at being a prince. Do not forget that, if I am skilled with bow and blade, I did not acquire those skills at game but in earnest. There are many Orcs who could testify to the truth of that, if they were but living!"

Gandalf sighed.

"Legolas, you are determined to be aggrieved. Very well, then. I shall leave you to nurse your resentment and shall instead retreat to the Hall of Fire, where the flames are considerably more cheerful than you are at the moment. But do look me up when you are in less of a high dungeon."

With that Gandalf strode from the room, leaving behind a very chagrined young Elf. Legolas loved and admired the old wizard, as the Sinda had from the moment the two had met in the forest of Imladris. Now he feared lest his stubbornness would make the Istar think less of him. He shouldn't have been concerned, however. Gandalf knew that Legolas would recover from his pique and be as fond of Aragorn and as respectful of the wizard as he had ever been.

"He is still so young," Gandalf was thinking to himself as he made his way to the Hall of Fire. "Amongst Men he would be considered to be in his young twenties. Let me see: when was his last birthday? Ah, yes, the thirteenth day of Narwain. Now what precisely would his age be if he were a Man? Hmmm? Ah, yes, just twenty-two in human years. Goodness, that's young! And he really looks as if he were in his late teens. If he were a Man, he'd scarce be able to grow a beard!"

Occupying himself with such ruminations, Gandalf was not paying attention to where he was walking.

"By the Valar!" someone exclaimed, "Are you trying to knock some sense into your head by cracking it against mine?"

"Ah, my pardon, Glorfindel. I was thinking."

"Thinking, eh? So it's true, then, that Men cannot walk and think at the same time?"

"I beg your pardon," retorted Gandalf. "I am no Man!"

"No? How came you by that beard, then?"

"It comes with the costume, don't you know. I can no more dispense with it than this ridiculous pointed hat."

"I certainly must agree with you in your estimation of that hat! But where are you off to, Mithrandir?"

"I am on my way to the Hall of Fire."

"Then you have just turned down the wrong corridor," Glorfindel observed cheerfully. "Would you like an escort to set you on the correct path?"

Gandalf scowled at the insouciant balrog-slayer.

"Don't you have any patrols you need to lead?" grumbled the exasperated wizard.

"Actually, I was on my way to invite Legolas to join me on one."

The wizard brightened.

"Excellent! A good brisk ride in the bracing air should be just the thing to draw him out of his funk."

"Legolas is in a funk?"

"Yes, he fancies himself slighted by Aragorn."

"Oh ho! Let me guess: our young prince was looking forward to riding and hunting, wrestling and racing, only to find that Aragorn spends most of his time closeted with Elrond and Erestor, poring over maps and military treatises."

"Ex-act-ly."

"Well, then, we must provide Legolas with an outlet for his thwarted energy, mustn't we."

"Indeed we must—you must, I mean."

As they had been talking, Glorfindel had steered them toward the Hall of Fire. Now they had reached that chamber, and at its door Glorfindel bade Gandalf good-day.

"Rest assured, Mithrandir. I shall see that Legolas is kept occupied and has no time to sulk."

"Hannon le," Gandalf replied gratefully.

Glorfindel hastened to the garden, to which Legolas generally retreated when he was in need of solace. As Glorfindel had expected, he found Legolas stretched out on his back near the fountain, staring up at the clouds that scudded across the sky.

"Legolas," Glorfindel called, "I am going to ride out this day. It has been long since we have ridden together, you and I, and it may be long before we have another opportunity. I hope, then, that you will deign to accompany me. I am eager to hear how you have fared since your last visit to Imladris."

"I have fared very well, indeed," said Legolas with a gloominess that belied his words. "Have you not heard that I am the pampered son of a king, a prince who has no duties worth mentioning? How could I be other than happy all the live-long day?"

"Glad to hear of it," replied Glorfindel cheerfully, ignoring Legolas' sarcastic tone. "Then I shall meet you at the stables. Shall I ask one of the hostlers to saddle your horse, or would you prefer to do that yourself?"

"Glorfindel, when have you known me to use saddle or bridle with that horse? Must you, too, slight my abilities?"

'Mithrandir is right', Glorfindel thought to himself. 'Legolas certainly is tetchy'. Aloud he said, "Your pardon, Legolas. As I use saddle and bridle myself, it did not occur to me that I would be slighting you by implying that you do as well."

Legolas accepted the apology with very ill grace, but he did arise and pace toward the stables.

'Well, that's a move in the right direction, so to speak', thought Glorfindel, relieved. 'Mithrandir was not exaggerating when he said that Legolas was out of sorts! I don't believe I've ever seen him so gloomy and quick to take offense'.

Glorfindel and Legolas had no sooner departed on patrol than Aragorn wandered into the Hall of Fire. He seemed to be at loose ends, judging from his hesitant steps and his uncertain expression. Gandalf quirked an eyebrow. After Elrond, Gandalf owned the most impressive set of eyebrows in Middle-earth. While his brows lacked the mobility of Elrond's pair, their bushiness more than made up for that deficiency.

"Well, Aragorn, you look lost. Odd, as you grew up in Rivendell."

"After a fashion I am indeed lost, Gandalf, even though I do know where I am."

"Then in what sense are you lost?"

"A part of me is lost, I think."

"And what part might that be?"

"The part that used to be carefree. But I have done studying maps for the day, and I had hoped that Legolas would help me to recover my misplaced sense of merriment. However, it seems that no sooner do I have a free moment than Legolas is nowhere to be found. You haven't happened to see him hereabouts, have you?"

"He is off on patrol with Glorfindel."

Aragorn looked disappointed and chagrined.

"Patrol? I should have thought that he would have wanted to spend some time in my company. I only endured those meetings because I told myself that afterward I could look forward to spending time with Legolas just as we used to when I was younger. Gandalf, I have missed Legolas almost past telling. He is so less dour than my fellow Rangers, and I can laugh in his presence. He is so—young! I wish I could be like him," he said wistfully.

"But I am talking nonsense," Aragorn continued. "It was foolish of me to have thought that I would be able to pick up where I left off in my friendship with Legolas. I have grown as grim as any Ranger, and no doubt Legolas now finds my presence to be irksome."

"On the contrary, he only went out on patrol to fill the time that to him passed slowly because you were occupied with military matters."

Aragorn visibly brightened. 'Perhaps', thought Gandalf, 'Aragorn is not so old after all'. His thoughts along those lines were strengthened by what the Ranger next exclaimed.

"Really? He hoped to see me?" Gandalf hid a smile at the delight in the Dúnadan's voice.

"He hoped not only to see you but to speak and ride with you—and perhaps swim, race, and wrestle, time permitting."

"And now he has gone on patrol with Glorfindel!" lamented Aragorn, who was looking more and more like an Estel to the amused wizard—a Man, yes, but one gifted with youthful energy and enthusiasm.

"It is true that he's gone on patrol, but they've only just left. Hie thee after them—you should have no trouble tracking them down, Ranger that you are!"

Scarcely pausing to thank the Istar, Aragorn hurried from the room. Behind him Gandalf at last let a smile o'erspread his face.

"Well, well," he mused, "it seems that Aragorn and Legolas are not so far apart in age as I had thought."

At the moment, though, it did not seem so to Legolas. For a while he rode alongside Glorfindel in silence, but at last he could keep still no longer.

"Glorfindel," he declared, "during my journey here, I was looking forward to spending time with Aragorn, just as we used to before I was recalled to Mirkwood."

"And you are disappointed in your expectations?"

"Of course I am! Glorfindel, I didn't dodge spiders, outrace wargs, and battle Orcs so that I could sit about cooling my heels and listening to a wizard tell me that I have been coddled. Coddled, Glorfindel! Coddled!"

"Are you sure," Glorfindel replied mildly, "that you are not exaggerating just a tad?"

"Oh, very well. 'Tis true I only encountered one spider, and that a very old one that did not stray from its web."

"No, I didn't mean that you exaggerated about the journey; I meant that I wonder whether you are conveying Mithrandir's sentiments with complete and total accuracy. Are you, in short, being fair and balanced?"

Legolas sighed. "Must I be?" he asked petulantly.

"It is generally held to be a good thing," replied Glorfindel, "and anyone who does not wish to be thought of as, well, coddled should probably be desirous of being perceived as honest and forthright."

"Oh, very well," conceded Legolas. "Mithrandir didn't say I was coddled, but he did say that Aragorn was older than I and had greater responsibilities."

"And are not both assertions true?"

"Ye-es," admitted the Prince reluctantly. "It is true that, as a Man, Aragorn is older than I am as an Elf. And, yes, he is a king, uncrowned, even unacknowledged, yet king nonetheless."

"And?"

"And, well, even if he is king, and even if he is older than I am, you would think that he could spare a moment for a childhood friend!"

Here Legolas looked at Glorfindel with such a piteous expression that for a fleeting moment Glorfindel was tempted to embrace the young prince as if he were an elfling as of old. However, as Legolas expressly did not wish to be 'coddled', the balrog-slayer put aside the thought. Instead, he replied lightly.

"Ah, well, if it is only a moment you want, I am sure Aragorn will be able to oblige you!"

"Glorfindel!" protested Legolas, but he began to laugh.

"I do think," Glorfindel went on, "that you will shortly find Aragorn at liberty to indulge you. He could not delay going over some maps and manuscripts today because some Dúnedain, as well as some Lórien Elves, arrive tonight for a council. Once the council has concluded, he will have several weeks to rest before he must ride out again. I imagine he would like nothing better than to spend those days in the company of a certain peevish young Mirkwood Elf. Yes, if I know Aragorn, that will be the case—and I do know Aragorn, as I had a hand in his upbringing. He will never forsake you, Legolas."

So earnestly had the Elves been talking that they had quite forgotten their reason for riding out, which was to check on suspicious tracks that had been seen in the area. Else what happened next would never have occurred. Suddenly the air was filled with missiles. Pierced many times, the horses of both Elves whinnied in distress and collapsed under them. Each Elf was barely able to leap clear of his writhing mount.

"Best run for it," whispered Glorfindel urgently from behind a fallen tree trunk as arrows thwacked all around him. "It is a large force. If they keep to shelter, they will pick us off in the end."

As if to prove his point, a well-aimed arrow struck the balrog-slayer in the shoulder. He flinched, but did not cry out.

Legolas, from behind another tree trunk, saw and nodded. As one, the two leaped for deeper cover. Behind them they heard branches breaking as their assailants threw themselves into the chase.

The pursuit lasted for several miles. Then, Glorfindel, hearing nothing, slowed. "I think they have given up," he exclaimed, clutching at his shoulder and turning around to speak to Legolas.

There was no one there.

For a moment Glorfindel, losing all his elven serenity, was quite unable to think.

"What shall I do? What shall I do?" he cried aloud, his injury completely forgotten.

Fortunately, at that moment he heard hoof beats. At once he ran in the direction of the sound, bursting from behind a tree and into the path of an amazed Aragorn.

"Estel!" cried Glorfindel. "Orcs are in the woods. I fear they have taken Legolas. You must ride for help!"

"No," exclaimed Aragorn. "Help may arrive too late. You ride for Rivendell. I shall follow the trail. Through these woods, I can move as quickly as any steed."

Aragorn dismounted and helped Glorfindel onto his horse and then turned and began to back track the balrog-slayer's trail, loping through the woods at a rapid pace. The track was easy to follow, for Glorfindel had been relying on speed, not stealth, as he attempted to escape his pursuers. Meanwhile, Glorfindel, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, urged Aragorn's horse into a gallop back in the direction of Rivendell. Perhaps he would have been a trifle less frantic if he had realized that the Orcs had not yet succeeding in laying their claws on Legolas. In fact, at this point they did not realize that the prince was still anywhere within their reach. They had chased the two Elves for as long as they dared, until they judged that they had drawn too near the road for safety. As they ran, they had fired wildly after the escaping Elves, but they did not know that one of their missiles had hit home. Running in Glorfindel's wake, Legolas had been struck in the leg. He had not cried out, for he did not wish Glorfindel to forfeit his own chance of escaping. Instead, he threw himself off to the side, into some brambles. Glorfindel, not realizing that Legolas had been injured, ran on, and so did the Orcs.

Once the Orcs had run by, Legolas had looked about for a more secure hiding place, for he knew that if the Orcs discovered his trail, they could batter their way into the midst of the brambles. He looked about at the trees. Even with his injured leg, he could climb one, relying upon the strength of his arms. But Orcs, although not as skillful as Elves at tree-climbing, were still capable of it. Legolas' eye fell upon a tree whose lower limbs were well out of reach yet which could be ascended by means of a grape vine that dangled almost to the ground. Legolas crawled painfully out of the brambles and limped over to the tree. Seizing hold of the grape vine, he pulled himself hand over hand until he was able to climb onto the lowest branch of the tree. Taking care to pull the vine up so that the Orcs would not be able to use it to climb up after him, Legolas now used the branches to ascend even higher. At last he judged that the branches were too thin for him to climb any further. 'If I sit here quietly', he thought hopefully, 'perhaps they will never realize I am here. If they do discover me, though, I have a fair chance of keeping out of their clutches until help arrives'. Bow in hand, he settled down to await the event, whatever it might be.

By now the Orcs were trudging back toward their starting point. Soon they were walking under the very tree in whose limbs Legolas sheltered. Scarcely daring to breathe, Legolas watched as one by one they passed underneath. Just as it seemed that the young Elf would escape detection, the last Orc in the column stopped short and began to sniff the air.

"Boys, I smell blood!" he cackled.

"Course ye do," scoffed another. "We brought down two 'orses."

Said a third, "Hope we 'ave time to carve 'em up afore the pointy-ears arrive to drive us off."

"Shaddup, ye idjits," snarled the first Orc. "It in't no horse I smell. It's an Elf."

He began to carefully search the ground until he found a leaf smeared with blood. He picked it up and licked it clean.

"Mmmmm," he sighed appreciatively. "Yep. Elf blood."

Watching him, Legolas felt faint and had to hold tightly to the tree.

Eagerly the other Orcs began to look for traces of blood, and at last they tracked the droplets to their source.

"'E's up this 'ere tree," announced the first Orc.

The goblins gathered around the tree trunk and peered up into the canopy.

"How's we gonna get at 'im?" asked one Orc. "Branches 'r' all out 'o reach."

"Glad ye asked," said the first Orc. "Yer gonna stand by the trunk, and I'm gonna stand on yer shoulders. That way I kin reach that branch there."

"Why yer gotter stand on my shoulders?" whined the other goblin.

"Cause ye ask stupid questions," retorted the first, shoving his fellow against the trunk and clambering onto his back. A moment later, the first Orc toppled onto the forest floor, shot through the top of his skull as he reached for a branch. Before the other Orc could move, he, too, was shot through the brain from above. The other Orcs scurried out of bowshot.

"Now what we gonna do?" asked one of the survivors.

"I say we go eat those 'orses," suggested another.

"But Elves be tastier," pointed out a third.

"Mebbe," his companion replied, "but the 'orses in't gonna shoot no arrows at us. I like my dinner kill't, I do. Easier on the di-gest-shun, an' all."

Most of the goblins, however, were all for bringing down the Elf. One suggested that they set fire to the tree.

"Very ad-van-tay-gee-us," he pointed out. "We kills the Elf an' we cooks 'im at the same time. Save us a world o' trouble."

The only problem, of course, was the matter of how to set the tree on fire.

"We makes a torch," said one Orc, "and somebody runs out 'n flings it at the base o' the tree."

"Who's gonna run out with the torch," asked another Orc.

"You are!" chorused his companions.

It should be patently obvious by now that curiosity in an Orc is even more dangerous than in a cat.

A fire was kindled and a torch lit, and the unfortunate 'volunteer' was pushed toward the edge of cover. Reluctantly, he tried to scuttle the rest of the way to the tree—and he, too, was rewarded by an arrow through the head. As the torch fell from his hand, it rolled on to a bed of damp moss, guttered, and went out.

"That's one, two, three dead," observed an Orc with superior arithmetic skills. "Mebbe we should eat those 'orses after all."

But a second Orc did a calculation of another sort: "Three dead—that means a larger share of Elf for the rest of us. We shouldn't give up now!"

Three dead. That meant three fewer for Aragorn to deal with. And the survivors had laid aside their bows and were heedless of the Ranger's approach. Legolas spotted him, though, and the young Elf began to rain arrows down toward the Orcs. Legolas knew they were out of bowshot, but he wanted to distract them from the danger to their rear. His plan succeeded admirably. Aragorn had slain five Orcs before the goblins were even aware of him, and the remainder, taken utterly by surprise, were no match for the strength and fury of the Ranger. Legolas watched in awe as Aragorn hewed down one Orc after another, until all lay dead.

When the Dúnadan had dispensed with all the goblins, Legolas descended painfully from the tree, sliding down the final dozen feet by means of the grape vine. Aragorn caught him by the waist as he neared the ground and gently lowered him to the earth. Then the Ranger anxiously dropped down upon his knees beside the Elf.

"Legolas, mellon-nîn, are you hurt badly?"

"Not so badly. It is just that I cannot walk. But what of Glorfindel? Is he safe?"

"Yes, I encountered him and gave him my horse so that he might ride to Rivendell to seek help. Do not worry about him, but let me look to your injuries.

Aragorn tended Legolas' wound, carefully removing the arrow, and tearing strips from his cloak to use as bandages. After a little while, he frowned and sat back on his heels.

"Gwadur-nîn, I have done what I can for you, but Elrond should look you over as soon as possible, lest the Orc weapon was poisoned. Here, throw your arms around my neck."

"You are not going to give me a pick-a-back ride? I'm too big."

"Not so. I can carry you with ease, for I am taller and heavier than you. My body has filled out since last you saw me."

After a momentary hesitation, Legolas decided to be grateful rather than mortified at the fact that Aragorn was indeed the 'older' of the two. He got his arms around Aragorn's neck, and then the Man arose, placing his own arms under Legolas' knees. Once Legolas was settled securely upon his back, the Ranger began to stride swiftly yet smoothly toward Rivendell.

"Well," said Legolas ruefully, "It is true that I wanted to spend time riding with you, Aragorn, but this is not what I had in mind!"

Both laughed, and then Legolas resumed.

"What were you doing in the forest, Aragorn? I had thought that you were to be closeted all day in consultation with Elrond and Erestor."

"I had just finished one of those tiresome meetings and had gone looking for you, hoping that you would want to ride. Gandalf told me you had left shortly before on patrol with Glorfindel. I took horse at once, thinking that I might catch up with you. And I am very glad I did!"

"I as well!"

Just then Aragorn stumbled over a root. For all his pain, Legolas could not help but giggle like the elfling he had so recently been. To Aragorn, the sound was more delightful than the trill of a bird song. It reminded him that much was wondrous in Middle-earth. For too long the Man had been forced to look at the world through the eyes of a warrior. He was ever assessing its terrain as if it were naught but a field of battle. Now, in the company of Legolas, he suddenly saw leaves of green and gold where before he would have seen cover for archers. He envisioned valleys filled with flowers rather than locations for ambushes. He dreamed of majestic mountains rather than commanding eminences from which one might direct a military campaign.

"Don't grow any older, Legolas," the Ranger declared impulsively.

"I can't help but grow older," Legolas replied. "Not even a wizard could stop the turning of the moon."

"That's not what I meant," Aragorn said. "I can't explain what I meant. But, but, don't change! Whatever happens, you must remain—an Elf!"

"I am sure I can promise you that," answered Legolas dryly.

This conversation was interrupted by the sound of hoof beats, and the rescue party, led by Elrond himself, hove into view. Aragorn carefully helped Legolas mount one of the spare horses that had been brought, and then the Ranger mounted a second one. At a gentle pace, they returned to Rivendell, and Legolas was carried to the House of Healing. Elrond knew from experience that Legolas would be a fretful patient who would try to escape the care of the Healers before he was truly ready to arise from his bed, and he therefore prepared sleeping draught for the young Elf. Legolas suspected as much, but he was too tired to protest. Under the watchful eyes of both Elrond and Gandalf, he drank the proffered potion down to the last drop.

Legolas awoke to find Gandalf sitting at the foot of his bed, smoking his pipe and regarding him with a mixture of affection and concern.

"You shouldn't be smoking in here," Legolas said groggily. "You know that Elrond doesn't approve."

Gandalf removed the pipe from his mouth.

"My dear Legolas, for centuries, at the request of Elrond, I have avoided smoking in the presence of elflings. But I ask you, are you still an elfling?"

"I feel like one today," Legolas said sheepishly.

"But, in point of fact, you are not. And I am therefore going to smoke around you whether Elrond likes it or not."

"Tell me," chimed in a voice from the door, "if that is so, do you plan to launder all the bedding that will reek of smoke as a result of your noisome habit?"

Elrond stepped into the room.

"Aye, Mithrandir, and Legolas' garments as well—do you plan to wash them? I assure you that the Laundress would very much like to know."

"Elrond, you are so, so, so—fastidious!" grumbled Gandalf as he put down his pipe.

Retorted the elf-lord, "In case you haven't noticed, Legolas is injured. Yet you would insult his lungs by befouling the air he must breathe."

"Hullo!" called another voice from the door. "Legolas is awake? Good! He's been sleeping for ages."

Aragorn strolled up to the bed and settled himself upon a chair next to it. He pulled out his pipe and reached for a taper to light it. Gandalf smirked at Elrond and, picking up his own pipe, resumed puffing upon it. With great cheekiness, he sent an eagle to hover over Elrond's head. Elrond pretended not to notice it.

"When may I arise, Elrond?" Legolas asked.

"In a day or two—if you are not sickened by pipe weed fumes before then."

"May I ride?"

"No, for the time being you will have to cosset that leg."

Legolas looked so crestfallen that Elrond almost relented, but he sternly reminded himself that Legolas would have an infinite number of opportunities to ride in the future.

"That's all right, Legolas," offered Aragorn. "I'll keep you company until your leg heals."

Legolas brightened at once, and Elrond realized that the young Elf hadn't been disappointed at the thought of not riding. No, he thought, Legolas had feared that, if he were confined to the Hall, Aragorn would be out and about and would spend no time with him.

'Those two might as well be brothers', he said to himself. 'Either would die for the other'.

Gandalf, looking on, thought the same.

___"I am glad, very glad," Glorfindel said to Elrond as they watched the Fellowship dwindling into the distance, "that Legolas will represent the Fair Folk amongst that Company."_

___Elrond nodded._

___"Yes, I pity the Orc who aims a blow at Aragorn if Legolas should see it."_

___"Indeed! The Orc would die before his blow fell. Likewise, anyone who tried to do Legolas an injury would face the wrath of Aragorn. But, Elrond, their loyalty to each other shall, I think, be matched by their loyalty to the other members of the Fellowship."_

___"You are right, Glorfindel. Loyalty is like love. A child who grows up giving and receiving love from one person has the capacity when an adult to love others introduced to him in later years. Legolas and Aragorn have learned how to stand steadfastly by each other; they will naturally find themselves able to extend that loyalty to others."_

___Elrond's words proved to be as prophetic as any that could have been uttered by even the Lady Galadriel herself. In after years many tales were told of the courage of the Nine Companions that set out that day, but many more were told of their loyalty one to another. Some said that it was loyalty that brought back the Istar Mithrandir, so that, even though he had won his release from Arda, in the end he might stand or fall by the side of his Companions. Some said it was loyalty that carried the vessel bearing Boromir past Minas Tirith and across the Sea, so that he might greet his fellow pilgrims when they arrived upon the distant shore. No one can say for a certainty if these things came to pass. But of their loyalty, there is no doubt of that. And at the core of the loyalty of the Fellowship was the love between Aragorn and Legolas, so different in bearing, in personality, and yet, in the end, all the closer for it._


End file.
